The Raven — Harper & Brothers edition illustrated by Gustave Doré — reading text

of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door— Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door— Perched, and sat, and nothing more. THE RAVEN. 21 Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, “Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore, Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!” Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore. Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bo For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door- Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as “Nevermore.” But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. Nothing further then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered Till I scarcely more than muttered, “Other friends have flown before— On the morrow 4e will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.” Then the bird said, “Nevermore.” Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, “Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store, Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore— Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore Of ‘ Never. nevermore.” THE RAVEN. But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door; Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore— What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking “Nevermore.” This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o’er She shall press, ah, nevermore ! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. “Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee by the angels he hath sent thee Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore! Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!” Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.” “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!— Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted— On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore— Is there—zs there balm in Gilead ?—tell me—tell me, I implore!” Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.” THE RAVEN. 23 “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore— Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.” Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.” “Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting xet thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken !—quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!” Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.” And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming, And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted —nevermore! “Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore.” “Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.” Hh | “Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore.” “Sorrow for the lost Lenore.” “For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore Nameless here for evermore.” “Tis some visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door— Some late visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door.” “Here I opened wide the door; o = 6 & oo of! r-} sj ia) =I a o oy o es n a g a S ee “Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.” “<Surely, said I, ‘surely that is something at my window lattice; Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore.” “Open here I flung the shutter. “A stately Raven of the saintly days of yore. Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he.” “Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door— Perched, and sat, and nothing more.” f Wh _ | “Wandering from the Nightly shore.” “Till I scarcely more than muttered, ‘Other friends have flown before- On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.’” “Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy.” “But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er She shall press, ah, nevermore ! “‘Wretch, I cried, ‘thy God hath lent thee by these angels he hath sent thee Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!?” g 3 mS 5 6 2 = eI S| s eI 5 ° Is there “Tell me truly, I implore— zs there balm in Gilead? tell me—tell me, I implore!” \ A\ “Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore.” “«Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!’ I shrieked, upstarting.” ““Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!’” “And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted—nevermore!” if